Sunday, December 12, 2010

Sarcasm's Sister


Sometimes bad things happen. Sometimes life sucks. Sometimes there’s just nothing you can do to make your day better. Sometimes you just have to buck up, buttercup, and decide to let things go, and start again tomorrow. It could be worse right? Yes it could. Don’t argue with me.

And sometimes, just sometimes, whatever issues you may be having are completely your own damn fault and no matter how much you bitch and moan, no one will feel sorry for you. In fact, the MORE you bitch and moan, it’s more likely that you’ll lose even those people who would normally stick it out with you, when all your other friends got tired of your crap a long time ago.

We all have problems that arise that are entirely beyond our control, whether it’s caused by someone else, or some crazy cosmic chain of events. Forgive and forget. Move on. And by all means, call me, vent, I’ll be there for you. Even if it was your fault, as long as you’re willing to figure out how to make it all better all by yourself, I’ll be your personal therapist. No prob. Better yet, if you’re willing to fix it without burdening other people, I’ll be there for you! So you went out and bought the newest, greatest, hottest new game system rather than using that money to pay your power bill. Admit that you messed up, have a plan on how to get yourself out of it, and then take action to make it different. I’ll come over with candles and some blankets.

But lets just, for example, say that perhaps you get an alcohol related driving offense. You might have to go to jail, pay a huge fine, lose your license, and maybe even your job. That sucks, yeah. But don’t call me and whine about how unfair it all is and how you don’t deserve to be treated this way. What, is it the cars fault that it started when you turned the key? The booze jumped up, grabbed you by the hair, tilted your head back and poured itself down your throat? Wow, I’m so sorry that happened to you! Maybe it’s time to get a new car and a new bar, huh? Or file assault charges against Jose`?

Perhaps you got a wild hair up your ass, had a fight with your spouse, and decided it was perfectly acceptable to have an affair. And then, when every single person you know told you that you’re a fricken’ idiot, you got angry with them because somehow you’re justified if only because the wife was mean to you. Awwww poor wittle baby. What did she do, stab you with a chef’s knife? Burn you with cigarettes while you slept? Take away all your toys and tell you to sit in time out? She probably should have, because you’re acting like an 8 yr old, mamby pamby sissy la la! You married her, knowing full well what that meant, and what kind of responsibility that requires. This isn’t like 3rd grade, and you “married” that cute little blonde girl 3 seats behind you, dandelion bouquet and everything. This is real, and legally binding. Besides all that, the horrible, awful, terribly abusive ball and chain expects you to act like a grown man. I know, it’s hard. Here’s a tip: Start thinking with your big head.

Give me a break. Quit being a waste of perfectly good oxygen, as well as my time. Take responsibility for your actions, and the consequences for the stupid ones. Don’t expect anyone else to have to stop their lives to help you deal with the situation, especially when you aren’t dealing with it yourself. Anyone truly worth having in your life are the people who tell you to go handle your life, and that they won’t be taken advantage of, but that they love you and hope for the best. How the hell else would you learn anything about how to be a better human being, and more importantly, how else would you learn not to do that again? Everyone else, the ones that allow you to use them and abuse them, they are useless. The people who love you the most are the ones who should be completely honest with you, tell you to knock off your crap, and perhaps go see the doctor.

I hate to be the one to tell you this, but somehow you got your head stuck up your own butt. Yeah, I know, I don’t know how you didn’t notice either. But I’m your friend, it’s my job to tell you that you look like a retard before you go out in public. It’s really just time to get the ass hat removed. It has to be terribly uncomfortable, and it’s really not that becoming on you.

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